


Tea and Honey

by Kt_fairy



Series: Oranges [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Comfort, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, nursey is a soft boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10955361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kt_fairy/pseuds/Kt_fairy
Summary: Derek took a deep breath and heaved his legs over the side of the bed, pressing the overheated soles of his feet against the rough wood of the floor. He had been told once by a school counselor that having your feet on the floor made you feel more energised, woke your body up, sent the signal to your brain that you were ready for activity. For years Derek had pushed and pushed his feet against the floor to try and not feel like this but it had never worked. He still tried it every time just in case this was the day it would finally succeed, even though he knew it never would.





	Tea and Honey

 

 

 It begun on an indistinct Saturday evening. Derek picking at the dinner he did not really have the appetite to eat while Chris and Bitty laughed at some mindless sitcom on the TV, limbs starting to vaguely ache like he had been smacked about on the ice, thoughts becoming directionless and unsubstantial.

 Sometimes the depression would linger for a few days and then, for no reason Derek could see, stop. Sometimes it would last for only a night, pulling him down and down until he was crying into his pillow, waking up groggy the next morning but otherwise feeling like the all encompassing despair had never happened.

 This, unfortunately, was not one of those times. This was one of the dark times, the seemingly bottomless times where everything just got harder and harder and harder and Derek got more and more tired and numb, working on auto-pilot, then barely working on auto-pilot. Wake up, eat, lectures, eat, lay in bed in your clothes unable to sleep but too exhausted to do anything else, repeat and repeat until he could not even think about making himself get up.

  Derek shoved his head under a pillow to block out the sun shining right into his face, consoling himself because when it was  _really_ bad he would not have been able to do even that. But he could not make himself get up to close the blinds, could not pull off his jeans, could not go and get his meds. It made him feel so much worse that he was going to have to fucking lay here and wait for either Chris or Bitty to come and check on him.

 Or...Derek opened his eyes to the stuffy darkness under his pillow and listened. Dex was not in the room, had probably got the hell out of here to escape the heavy, silent gloom that Derek had been carrying around all week - he would like to hate Dex for it but if Derek could escape his depression he’d run fast and never look back.

 Jack and Lardo had been the first on the team Derek had told about his illness for obvious reasons, then Chris because he was his best friend, and then Dex because they were D-men partners and even though he was super annoying Derek knew he was dependable. Dex had not let him down; had helped out when needed, bringing Derek food or picking up assignments for him and on one occasion doing Derek’s laundry, but he had never lived next to it, never had to sleep and work and exist around someone who could not even change his clothes. Derek did not have the energy to dread the talk they would need to have about this. He would have to explain how being a depressed black kid got him branded Lazy by most people and even a few therapists, delaying his access to treatment and making him doubt the reality of his depression for years. And then there was the stigma of mental illness in the muslim part of his life, the cousins who used to tell him he felt like this because he was a bad muslim and should pray it away.

 Ammi had flown into a rarely seen fury that had lasted for three long days when she found out, Derek sat in the den with his head in mom’s lap watching movies with the sound turned up to try and drown out her yelling. She had taken him to a therapist who worked with her mosque who had helped a lot, but sometimes he still worried about it when this reared it’s head after he had been drinking and kissing boys and not behaving how the wider world thought he should.

 That was a lot to explain to an annoyingly pretty white working class american boy who had barely left his county let alone his state. Derek could not believe he would ever have the energy for that, but he would try. They were sharing the same living space for the next two years so, for his own sake, Derek would give Dex the opportunity to understand.

 At least, the vague thought struggled through the fog in his brain, Dex was not nearly as pigheaded as he liked to make out.

 Derek pulled the comforter tighter around him when he heard the door click open, burrowing into the pillow in the hopes that Dex would ignore him, treat him exactly like the heavy lump of nothing that, in this moment, he felt like because if the words ‘just’ ‘get’ and ‘up’ or ‘you’ll feel better’ left his mouth Derek would...well he would just lay here. It was all he could do right now. But it would hurt, and he felt like hurt might break him right now.   

 There was some shuffling and muttering, and then a soft thunk near Derek’s head. He lay there listening to the sudden silence and noticed the rich smell of baked goods and chocolate.

 He flopped onto his back with a sigh, taking a moment before opening his eyes. The room was almost dark, blissfully dark after the hours he had laid here blocking out the sunlight wishing he was not such a piece of shit who could not even close a blind. Relief was euphoric when you felt like you were about to implode.

 Letting his head roll to the side he saw there was camping table next to his bed. With a tray on it laid out with food. Derek blinked.

“I made you hot chocolate, with almond milk. And I got you some of the dairy-free pan au chocolate from Annie’s.” Dex pointed to the glass of orange juice, “And that’s orange juice.”

Derek lay there for a moment looking at the half filled glass, “Why?” he croaked, throat scratchy from sleep, mouth a lot more dry than he realised.

“It’s a french breakfast. Well, I don’t know if they do eat it in France but this is what my mom used to give me when I was feeling down.” He gestured vaguely, “You’re feeling a lot worse than down right now I know but ya know…” Derek smiled, he knew it was a small half-hearted thing but that was all he could manage, “I got your med’s out of your bag as well. I didn’t remember you taking them yesterday. So...uh. Yeah.”

 Derek looked back to the tray as Dex turned away to shuffle around doing Dex things. Food sounded good, he had not eaten since breakfast yesterday and he knew he should eat even if he did not have much of an appetite. He reached out towards the plate, resting his fingers on it as he summed up the energy to bring it over to him.

 He ended up just staring at it, feeling frustration prickling at his eyes because he just could not pick it up. Useless, he was so useless. Why did he ever bother, should just let himself starve and then Dex could have this room to himself without Derek being a depressed lump bringing everything down and making him go out of his way to try and cheer him up so he wouldn’t be a dark cloud over the Haus.

 Dex sighed from across the room and Derek closed his eyes. He couldn’t even accept help, was throwing it back in Dex’s face, he could not even…

”D’ya wanna sit up?” Derek looked up and up and up at Dex standing over him and nodded, taking a moment to get his arms under him and wobbled up to lean against the pillows, unspeakably glad that Dex did not try and help him.

“Here…” Dex crouched down next to the bed and reached out towards the pastries, Derek watching as he ripped them carefully in half and then in half again so they were in quarters and then handed him the plate without comment, a slightly guarded look on his face as Derek took it off him.

“Thanks,” he croaked, trying to smile at Dex but guessing from the look on his face that it looked as forced as it was.

“No problem,” Dex muttered, hesitating for a moment so Derek took a bite of the pastry, feeling his smile became more genuine at the warm, rich goodness, reaching out for the hot chocolate as he _really_ realised how hungry he was.

 Dex moved over to the desk as Derek ate slowly, dipping the pastry into the hot chocolate, letting the warmth, the sugar, and the serotonin in the cocoa work its placebo magic for the moment.

 For want of anything else to look at while he ate he watched Dex who was punching things rapidly into a calculator between writing furiously on one of the pieces of paper he had surrounded himself with. He was kind, it may not seem like it when he was a big freckly ball of piss and vinegar with a massive fucking pile of chips on his shoulders but he could be so gentle when you needed him to be. Like right now.

 He appreciated Dex’s quiet company, un-intrusive and calm just like Chris was when he kept an eye on him, but with a lot less cuddling. Derek loved the cuddles, and he adored Chris, but he would not lean on him every time. Chris was his best friend and Derek knew that he wanted to help him but Chris had his own life and Derek really wanted him to live it. Not a lot frightened him, he could rarely afford to be, but the one thing he was scared of was being someones burden.  

 Derek sipped his hot chocolate, fully aware of the tears that were slowly streaming down his cheeks as he silently wept for every reason and none at all. He was used to it, it would pass. Sometimes he even felt better after the tears, and he had eaten today! He might be able to go back to class tomorrow.

 He was still looking at Dex when he glanced over his shoulder at him. He really was very broad and tall, sometimes Derek forgot it because he was so dam skinny. He had no idea how he could flatten huge Harvard forwards when sometimes Derek thought he..but no. He couldn’t think about that now. They would graduate next year and Derek would never have almond milk hot chocolate brought to him again. It was chill, he was no-ones priority. Just the way his life was.

“Nursey!” Dex gasped, warm eyes wide as he twisted around to look at him in alarm, “You’re crying!"

“I know,” he shrugged.

“Wha…” Dex made to get up, hesitated, then wheeled himself closer to Derek’s bed. “Nursey,” he said again with an aching softness in his voice that made Derek’s hands tighten around his drink.

“It happens sometimes.”

“Oh,” Dex said, accepting what Derek said even if he still looked a little concerned and Derek felt a vague sense of warmth in his chest that was not from the hot chocolate, “Do you need anything?”

 Derek shook his head as he wiped at his wet cheeks, “Thank you Dex.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of me.”

 Dex made this little motion of his head and shoulders that Derek had learnt meant ‘ _well yeah_ ’, “I couldn’t just ignore you, or leave you alone when you’re like this.”

 There was a pause where a Derek who was feeling good would have said ‘Worried about me Poindexter?’ with a smirk, but the silence hung heavy between them until Dex broke it with a faint pained sound.

“Sorry,” Derek muttered, feeling shitty that he was bringing Dex down now as well.

“Don’t!” Dex snapped, the first time Derek had heard harshness in his voice since he had felt the strain and heaviness begin to descend almost four days ago.

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to get Bitty or…?”

“No!” Derek said a little too quickly. He loved Bitty but his overbearing southern concern was exhausting when he felt like this, not able to tell him to go because even draining company was better than being left alone with this big black dog of a feeling sitting on his chest like he had been at Andover, “No I…”

“Or Chris? He’s usually here when you get like this.”

“I want you to stay,” Derek admitted, feeling small and heavy and all too present, reaching out to put the mug of chocolate down so he could curl up again and disappear.

“'Course I’ll stay,” Dex murmured as he took the mug from Derek, putting it down before handing him the orange juice and the tab of pills. “It just mean’s I’ll nag you into hydrating.”

 Derek huffed a half-hearted laugh, fumbling the correct dosage into his mouth and chugging the glass of juice to swallow them down, “Gonna help me pee too?”

“Well, I mean…” Dex hesitated on the joke for a moment, “D’ya want me to do anything for you? Or help you with anything?” There was no judgement on Dex’s face, no steeling himself, it was an open and honest offer like it was something he should be doing, like offering a drink to a guest or washing up after dinner and Derek was not surprised to find the certainty in his manner centering.

 He was also not surprised but how itchy he felt under the clothes he had spent two nights in, or the smell that met him when he stuck his nose into his armpit, “I think...a bath?”

“Cool, I’ll run you one,” Dex pressed a warm hand to his arm before heading off into the bathroom, letting in the hum of Chris’ music in for a moment, the faint sound of chatter drifting through before he must have shut Chris’s  door and the whirring of the pipes started up as he turned on the taps.

 Derek took a deep breath and heaved his legs over the side of the bed, pressing the overheated soles of his feet against the rough wood of the floor. He had been told once by a school counselor that having your feet on the floor made you feel more energised, woke your body up, sent the signal to your brain that you were ready for activity. For years Derek had pushed and pushed his feet against the floor to try and not feel like this but it had never worked. He still tried it every time just in case this was the day it would finally succeed, even though he knew it never would.

 The thought of Dex helping him stand got Derek moving, he was not so bad today that he was not mindful of his pride, the world outside of his bed not that different from his numb little bubble of bedsheets now the room was bathed in darkness.

 They were naked around one another nearly every day in the locker room so it was no big deal that Dex was still in the bathroom when he stripped down. Plus Derek could not really find it in himself to care as he dumped the rumpled, sweaty clothes he had been wearing for two whole days into the sink, dropping a lemon bath bomb into the water and stood there watching it fizz while Dex moved around behind him.

“Will you sit with me?” Derek asked, finally looking away from the swirling bubbles to Dex who had an armful of pyjamas.

“Um. Okay. Gimmie a sec.” The pajamas got placed onto the toilet cistern as Dex went to retrieve the desk chair and a textbook, standing there in the doorway watching as Derek lowered himself into the soothing warmth of the water, his back squeaking loudly against the plastic of the tub as he sunk down low enough for his ears to be submerged, everything muffled so it was just him and the unnaturally loud sound of his breathing, warm and safe and still.

 He thought he had been sat like that for a while, eyes closed against the sharpness of the fluorescent lights, surrounded by bright scent of lemon and the almost meditative quiet, when he became slowly aware of his knee’s getting cold from where they were poking out of the water. Derek shifted, bringing them under the bubbles and sat up enough to lean his head against the cold tiles, looking at Dex who was still sat next to him with his feet up on the side of the tub, scribbling something on a post-it note that he had stuck to the page of his textbook.

 Derek had been unable to stop himself from forming a forlorn little hope that Dex might like him when he had learnt that under all that ginger pissy-ness he did actually have a sexuality and it included liking boys too. It was wishful thinking he supposed but whatever, for better or for worse he had always been a bit of a dreamer. His brain chemistry was already trying to crush him down into the dirt, he was not going to stop doing the one thing that kept his head in the clouds.

 Dex glanced up and raised an eyebrow when he caught Derek staring but he did not look away so Dex went back to his work, running a hand through his fluffy red hair so it stood up on end like he was a startled chick.

 Derek found that some of the weight had lifted from his chest when the image surprised a laugh out of him that echoed off the tiles, Dex shooting him a look, “Do I amuse you?” he asked with a small smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Derek admitted, feeling the sudden need to get out of the bath when he noticed the blush rushing into Dex’s cheeks.

 Dex dumped a towel on Derek’s head when he got out of the bath, nagging for the first time that day as he made Derek put lotion on, “You’ll be ashy and then blame me.”

 Derek paused in rubbing cocoa butter into his shoulders, “Ashy?”

“I listen.”

 His pyjamas had moved to the radiator at some point and they were soft and cozy and warm when Derek put them on. “D’ya want new sheets? Yours are still in the laundry but I can lend you some of mine if you need?” Dex asked from the bathroom doorway as Derek rinsed out the bath - he was not helpless.

“I…” Derek started. Now he was out of his bed he did not want to climb back into it, scared he would be pulled back down into the depths of this...this...yawning pit of heavy, aching numbness if he went back there.

 Dex was looking at him calmly, eyes flicking over Derek’s face and he hated to think what he looked like, hair unkempt, face unshaven for the past three days, puffy and sallow and sad.

“I’m gonna hug you,” Dex announced, barely getting a chance to straighten up from where he was leaning in the doorway because Derek marched straight over to press his face into the nook of Dex’s shoulder so he could hear his heartbeat drumming in his neck.

 Long arms wrapped around him and held him not too tightly, he could pull away with ease if he wanted and it made him burrow in closer. Derek loved cuddles.

“You can have a hug whenever you need one, D. I just never knew if you wanted one from me.”

“Of course I do,” Derek muttered into his shoulder.

“...okay.”

“You can have one if _you_ ever need one,” Derek said, squeezing Dex for a moment before he realised it might hurt.

“I...I…” Dex leant his cheek on Derek’s hair, “Thanks.”

“Can I go in your bed please? My one is...my one has too much depression in it.”

“We can go downstairs?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“And...and can you be in it with me?” Derek whispered, quiet enough for them to both pretend he never said it.

“You want me to...”

“Only if you want. I kinda need you right now.”

“Oh…” He could feel Dex hesitate before he held him tighter, “Of course, Nursey.”

 Derek dragged the desk chair back into their room because, again, not helpless, and stood by Dex’s bed waiting for confirmation he could get in it because he knew how sacred your own space was when you lived on top of other people.

 The blankets arched elegantly when Dex chucked them back absentmindedly, gathering some stuff as Derek lowered himself into Dex’s bed that felt softer and cleaner than his did, the blankets so much heavier than his, the weight an unexpected comfort.

 Dex dithered for a moment, looking down at Derek laid out in his bed and Derek did not know what to think of it, trying not to hope it was because he looked tempting and beautiful in Dex’s bed because he knew that was bullshit, trying not to think it was because he was weirding Dex out right now.

 Eventually Dex swapped out his jeans for sweatpants, sitting up in bed with a calculator and a notebook that he held up as he looked down at Derek expectantly. It took him a moment, brain sluggish still, and felt his face heat as he shifted closer to rest his head on one of Dex’s strong thighs, smiling despite himself when Dex balanced the calculator on his head for a moment.

 After this, when Derek had got over the other side of this not so insurmountable mountain, he was going to ask Dex out for dinner. It might be a date, might just be them being roommates, might just be them becoming even closer best friends. Whatever it turned out to be Derek let himself hope it would only be for the best.

 A hand landing on his head made him jump, Dex snatching his hand away as Derek squinted up at him, “I was gonna stroke your hair, sorry.”

“It’d be better if you dug your fingers in at the roots. ‘Cause yanno, black hair.”

 The look on Dex’s face made it clear he did not know but had decided to keep that to himself, “ D'you want me to?”

“Yes please. That would be great.”

 Dex blushed again to the tips of his ears as he turned to his calculator, long fingers slipping deep into Derek’s hair with a gentleness that would make his heart swell if it could right now. The only people who ever did this were his mom and sister and they did it with an absentminded confidence that came with having afro hair themselves and Dex’s care reminded him of how far he was from being a fourteen year old who was terrified because he could not stop crying.

“We’re like Pooh and Piglet,” Dex said apropos of nothing, Derek taking a moment to absorb scrappy, lanky Dex talking about Winnie the Pooh offhand like that, then wondering exactly which one of them was supposed to be the tiny pink pig.

“Huh?”

“Winnie the Pooh.”

“I know who Pooh Bear is. I had the whole set of books as a kid.”

“Yeah same. They were my Mom’s.”

“Same.”

“I used to play Pooh sticks on this brook at the back of my house.”

“No brooks in Manhattan.”

“I’ll show you it one day.”

“Sweet,” Derek said and found himself hoping that Dex meant it. He rolled onto his back to look up at the underside of Dex’s chin, the most unflattering of angles, knowing that on any other day he would have taken a picture and put it straight on the group snapchat. “So which one of us is small and cute and which one of us is the bear?”

“Its when Pooh is…” Dex frowned then glanced down at Derek, halting the movement of his fingers against Derek’s scalp, “Are you trying to make me call you a bear? In the gay way?”

“Trying to get you to admit you’re a twink.”

It was an old joke, Dex had stopped getting riled up about it a long time ago so he just sighed, “Feeling better are ya?”

“Feeling less like I’m drowning under it all.”

 Derek felt Dex freeze and waited for the pity or the awkwardness, but instead the fingers in his hair started moving again, “That’s good. That’s really good.”

“Hmm.”

“Is it okay for me to say I was worried?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You’re the one who’s suffering with this, I don’t wanna lump my worries onto that.”

“Lay down with me.”

 A blush bloomed up Dex’s neck, “Excuse me?”

 Derek felt laughter bubble up but pushed it down. He had already wept in front of Dex today he was not about to burst out into hysterical laughter, “Lay down with me.”

 With a lot of grouching and grunting Dex slid down until his head was on the pillow, the warm line of his long body bumping against Derek’s, “That was really creepy just so you know.”

“It finally got you where I want you.”

 Dex turned his head, their faces so close together Derek could see the green flecks in his eyes, and gave Derek a withering look, “You snoring in the bath reaaaally works as a seduction technique.”

 Derek smiled, knowing it would look strained but Dex smiled back anyway, “It’s nice to know you worry, it’s good to know someone who doesn’t really...who isn’t that...who I know doesn’t like me all that much cares when I’m like this.”

 Dex’s face went through several emotions, finally ending up on his signature scowl, “I like you well enough. You jus - no - we just get up each other's backs all the time. We're making it work.”

“I guess.”

“I care about you, you drive me ins...you annoy the fuck outta me but, for some reason that is beyond me, I wouldn’t have Samwell without you.” Dex reached out under the blanket to rest his hand on Dex’s wrist, “You need me to do stuff for you I’ll try to help.”

 Derek moved his wrist and slotted their palms together, “I wouldn’t have this room without you.”

“Well that was gay,” Dex said even though he was blushing brightly.

“Wanna hear something even more gay?”

“No.”

“Can I get in on another hug?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. Sure,” Dex half turned and did this awkward motion with his arms that summed up exactly how Derek was feeling right now, “How d’you wanna- oh okay.” Dex went easily as Derek tugged him onto his side and pressed his face into his chest, letting out a pleased grunt when Dex slowly slid his fingers back into his hair.

 Derek thought he dozed again for a bit, lulled by someone else’s steady breathing and the fingers in his hair, reality snapping back a lot clearer than it had been for a good few days when Dex said with resigned softness, “For the record, I’m piglet.”

 Derek moved his face out of Dex’s chest just enough to mutter, “Knew I’d get you to admit it.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> "I don’t feel very much like Pooh today, said Pooh. There there, said Piglet. I’ll bring you tea and honey until you do" - A.A.Milne, Winnie the Pooh.
> 
> If you are effected by anything in this fic please [ do not hesitate to talk to someone](http://togetherweare-strong.tumblr.com/helpline) or [ consult some resources online ](https://www.mind.org.uk/information-support/mental-health-in-our-own-words/who-else-can-i-talk-to/?ctaId=/information-support/mental-health-in-our-own-words/slices/what-happens-when-i-ask-for-help/).
> 
>  
> 
> If you want to read a better fic on this subject head on over to Shellybelle's [ like living on a cliffside](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9540671/chapters/21573206)


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